


Wolf's Workshop

by lowpolycloud



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hoxton can't handle emotions, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27013231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowpolycloud/pseuds/lowpolycloud
Summary: “Missed you today,” Hoxton admitted quietly as he nuzzled the side of Wolf’s neck. Wolf tilted his head to rub their cheeks together, pressing a soft kiss to Hoxton’s jaw. It was a bit of an understatement – Hoxton had been thinking about Wolf near constantly today, ever since he’d woken up that morning and found Wolf missing from their bed, already down in the basement tinkering. He’d recognised it as a sign that Wolf was in one of his frantic moods and god damn him, Wolf had lodged himself so deep in Hoxton’s heart that he’d spent the day waiting to return home so that he could distract the swede from his own head.Wolf is overworking and Hoxton intervenes.
Relationships: Hoxton | James "Jim" Hoxworth/Wolf
Kudos: 12





	Wolf's Workshop

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't find any fics of Hoxton and Wolf banging on Wolf's desk so I guess it's up to me. I also wanted to show Wolf's mental illness affecting him in more casual day to day. I do not write often so apologies in advance for my prose.

Clover, Sydney and Jacket didn’t look up from the tablet they were hunched over when Hoxton entered the kitchen, which wasn’t surprising. It’s not like anything was going on – as far as days went in their line of work it was a pretty slow one, and Hoxton had only needed to go out a few hours with Dallas, Chains and Sokol to achieve what they’d wanted to; the sun hadn’t even set yet, late afternoon rays glowing warm through the windows and lighting the space up in a way that made it feel strangely homey. What it did mean was he’d have to make himself known to get the information he needed.

“Oi,” Hoxton called idly, watching as two heads raised to look at him. “Either of you seen Wolf today?”

It was fortunate, really, that Clover and Jacket were two he’d happened upon – other than Dallas and Chains they were the two most likely to understand the unspoken meaning of the question, what with Jacket being a friend of Wolf and Clover being too nosy and paranoid not to know everyone’s business. Besides, they’d been home so they had the benefit of being able to actually supply an answer. Clover was the first to react, tilting her head slightly with a furrowed brow as she considered.

“No… I don’t think he’s been about all day,” she mused thoughtfully.

Jacket waited attentively to be sure she was done speaking before fiddling with his tape recorder, eventually clicking the button to add, “Wolf dens usually take the forms of burrows in the ground.”

Hoxton didn’t consider himself enough of a linguist to understand whatever the hell that meant. Fortunately Sydney piped in to translate, “I think that means Wolf’s in the basement?” before turning to Jacket for confirmation, then grinning and holding her hand up for a high five when he nodded. Jacket returned the five silently.

Hoxton wasn’t surprised to hear that Wolf was in his workshop, but paired with Clover’s statement it painted a picture that he had hoped wouldn’t be the case – Wolf was fixating on his work too much and losing track of time again. Clover seemed to have picked up on Hoxton’s reaction because she regarded him carefully as she stood up and moved to the counter.

“Tea?” she asked innocently, and Hoxton’s eyes narrowed.

He knew that with Clover ‘tea’ was unintentional code for ‘interrogation’.

And maybe if today’s run had actually tired him out, maybe if it were a few hours later and the sky a few shades darker, he might take the opportunity to sit together in the kitchen and moan about little domestic quibbles like they were ordinary housemates in an ordinary kitchen with ordinary shit going on in their lives. But right now he had too much energy, too much drive to stop and sulk when he could actually do something.

“S’alright,” is what he finally settled on, fidgeting with removing his gloves as he spoke, “I’m gonna go find him.” He turned on his heel and left, stalwartly ignoring the fading sound of Jacket’s tape recorder saying “did you know that according to Abraham Maslow, the most basic needs for human beings are food, water, sleep, and sex?” and Clover’s surprised laughter behind him. Bunch of fucking kids.

Hoxton stopped by his room to throw his suit jacket and gloves onto a chair and rummage in the bedside drawer before descending the concrete steps to the basement level of the safe house. The air down there was cooler, hairs on his forearms prickling as he rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. The door to Wolf’s workshop and the shooting range was open and beyond it Hoxton could see Wolf’s back. He was seated at his desk, movements of whatever he was working on quick and fidgety. His suit jacket was thrown over a nearby container, probably removed because Wolf constantly complained that it was too warm down in the workshop.

Hoxton glanced over at the gun range as he entered, even though he knew Wick was away on business and it should be entry. No harm in checking. Other than himself and Wolf the room was deserted, and Hoxton gently pushed the door shut behind him with the sole of his foot.

“Busy?” Hoxton called as he approached. He had tried not to speak or move so sharply he’d startle the other man, but Wolf still jolted a little in place nonetheless. Probably had been focusing so long he’d forgotten where he even was. He did that.

Wolf didn’t turn or even look up as he answered, “Just uh… making some adjustments to the, the drill. This one was broken anyway so I thought- uh, while I fix it I may as well, um, test some upgrades.” He scratched his head and neck a few times as he stuttered, one heel lifted from the ground and leg bouncing frantically. Even approaching from behind Hoxton could read the myriad of tells that Wolf was getting too much into his own head again.

Hoxton continued to move slowly as he leaned over to rest his chin on Wolf’s shoulder and wrapped his arms loosely around the sitting man’s middle, hands resting lightly against tense abdominals. Wolf’s build was narrow enough that Hoxton’s hands met each other around his front and he laced his fingers together, careful to keep the touch casual and not tighten so much as to be stifling. The physical contact seemed to finally pierce some layer of cognitive muffling because Wolf tilted his head to look at Hoxton’s face, blinking as if he hadn’t even realised they’d spoken to each other.

It took a few moments during which Hoxton felt like he could audibly hear the cogs in the other man’s head creaking back into action, but eventually Wolf lowered his hands from where they’d still been busily fiddling and rested them against the desktop, grip on his tools loosening. “When did- how long have you been back? Everything go ok?” he asked, wide eyed and earnest. It made something in Hoxton’s chest soften and ache.

Hoxton saw the opportunity to try to draw Wolf back out of where he’d been lingering, and he’d be a fucking idiot not to seize it. “Piss easy. Bain was whinging the whole way about intel or some other such shit, typical fuckin’ worrying over nothing. May as well have left the money outside like books out front of a fuckin charity shop…“ Wolf’s chest shuddered beneath Hoxton’s hands with quiet giggles, hard tension beginning to bleed out of the engineer’s body and leave warmth and softness in its place.

Hoxton let his hands separate to stroke one lightly back and forth across the expanse of Wolf’s chest, the other touching idly at the buttons of his shirt. Wolf let out a quiet, pleased hum at the feeling and Hoxton leaned further to press a kiss at the corner of Wolf’s jaw, bristles of hair tickling his lips.

“You- uh, you ok Hoxtinator?”

“Mmm,” Hoxton responded, pressing more small kisses to whatever skin he could reach at the side of Wolf’s face, “yeah. Wanted to see you.” He felt Wolf swallow at that and tilt his head slightly to give Hoxton more access to his neck.

“O-oh? Is something… Did you want something?” There was still some anxiety quivering through Wolf’s body, Hoxton could see it in the way he twitched and twiddled his fingers atop the desk. Hoxton moved down to kiss at Wolf’s neck, grazing his teeth against the vulnerable pulse point and smirking when he felt Wolf fidget in response.

“Yeah. Stand up for me.” Hoxton moved back out of Wolf’s space but kept his hand on the back of the chair, using it to drag the seat back a little from the desk. Wolf blinked up at him for a moment with confusion before standing, turning to bring them face to face.

“Okay. Um… what’s up?” There was a small, lopsided smile on Wolf’s face now and Hoxton rolled his eyes, tutting.

“Don’t be cute,” Hoxton grumbled as he stepped forward to crowd Wolf back against the desk, hands coming to rest on Wolf’s hips. He nudged Wolf’s nose with his own before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“I thou- thought you like when I’m cute.” Hoxton could feel Wolf’s grin against his mouth and he bit the engineer’s lower lip in response, sucking the sensitive flesh before swiping his tongue across it. Wolf groaned, opening his mouth and meeting Hoxton in a deep kiss, hands coming up to grip Hoxton’s shoulders.

Hoxton pushed his hands up beneath the bottom of Wolf’s shirt, hands running appreciatively under the muscle and scarring hidden beneath. “Get this fucking shirt off,” he growled between kisses, pulling the buttons open roughly enough that Wolf anxiously moved to push his hands away and open them himself.

Once Wolf’s chest was exposed Hoxton didn’t even give him time to push the fabric off his shoulders before he was pushing back against the taller man, bringing their bodies flush together. His hands stroked along Wolf’s ribs, fingertips catching on long-healed bullet wound scars as they moved along to his lower back before finally stopping to firmly cup Wolf’s ass.

“Missed you today,” Hoxton admitted quietly as he nuzzled the side of Wolf’s neck. Wolf tilted his head to rub their cheeks together, pressing a soft kiss to Hoxton’s jaw. It was a bit of an understatement – Hoxton had been thinking about Wolf near constantly today, ever since he’d woken up that morning and found Wolf missing from their bed, already down in the basement tinkering. He’d recognised it as a sign that Wolf was in one of his frantic moods and god damn him, Wolf had lodged himself so deep in Hoxton’s heart that he’d spent the day waiting to return home so that he could distract the swede from his own head.

“Missed you too,” Wolf whispered and Hoxton swallowed thickly, distracting himself from the emotion those words stirred up by continuing to kiss and bite lightly at Wolf’s neck.

“Always miss you,” Wolf added, even quieter, and Hoxton shuddered, closing his eyes tightly and clearing his throat to stop himself making an embarrassing sound. He nodded silently, hoping it conveyed the message well enough – me too.

Hoxton slid his hands down to grab the back of Wolf’s thighs and used the hold to lift the engineer onto the surface of the desktop. He had only a moment to breathe out a grunt from the effort before Wolf was pulling their mouths together with a tug at the back of Hoxton’s neck. Hoxton felt his face flush as he groaned at the sensation of teeth biting at his lower lip, crowding up into the space between Wolf’s spread knees to try to bring their bodies as close as possible. With the amount of desperate affection bubbling beneath his skin he felt like he would crawl up inside Wolf’s ribcage if he could.

The weight of both men pushing so harshly against the table caused it to scrape along the ground a little and it released a high pitched squeal of metal on concrete. It didn’t particularly bother Hoxton but Wolf flinched back and away, hands leaving Hoxton’s body to clench on the desk surface as be bared his teeth and tightly closed his eyes.

Someone less familiar with Wolf might’ve worried that they’d fucked up, what with his body language abruptly becoming so tense and closed, but you didn’t work with someone for years as closely as Hoxton had with Wolf without learning some of their quirks. It wasn’t uncommon for an unexpected sensation – be it a sound, a sight or a texture – to make Wolf close off like that, and it wasn’t the end of the world either. Hoxton reacted by letting his hands rest on Wolf’s hips and tucking his face into the side of the Swedish man’s neck, letting his teeth graze the skin before nipping at an earlobe, then planting small kisses along the cheek. He kept his touches light but stayed in Wolf’s space, waiting for him to recover.

After a moment or two Hoxton felt Wolf’s jaw stop tensing under his lips and the seated man exhaled shakily, shoulders drooping from where they’d automatically raised. Hoxton rubbed slow circles into the skin above Wolf’s hip with his thumb, leaning back a little to bring them face to face, though staying close enough that their noses touched. Wolf’s expression was no longer like he’d stepped on glass but now he had that kicked puppy look that Hoxton couldn’t fucking stand because it meant that he was genuinely sad about something, which in turn made Hoxton feel like he needed to break something. Or someone. God, he was fucking soft for this shithead.

“Sorry-“ Wolf began, but Hoxton wasn’t interested in apologies for shit that can’t be helped so he took the opportunity to lean forward and curl his tongue into Wolf’s mouth before he could finish what was most likely some self-flagellating bullshit. After the initial surprise Wolf tilted his head to deepen the contact, humming contentedly and returning one of his hands to the back of Hoxton’s neck to pull their bodies back together.

“You should be sorry you’re still wearing this shit,” was the best Hoxton could come with the next time they broke apart, one hand moving to tug insistently at the front of Wolf’s suit trousers. Wolf let out a breathy chuckle and braced himself on the desk with his hands as Hoxton helped shimmy him out of the offending fabric.

Hoxton took a moment to admire the resulting sight. Wolf sat on the desk with his thighs spread apart, noticeable bulge in his underwear and open shirt hanging loosely about his shoulders. The skin on his face and neck was flushed a little pink, leading down to a chest rising and falling quick from short, excited breaths. Hoxton swallowed thickly as he raked his eyes thoroughly up and down Wolf’s body, trying to commit every detail of the image to memory.

When Wolf began to fidget anxiously under the scrutiny Hoxton let his hands rest on Wolf’s thighs and squeeze at the soft flesh there, bringing his mouth so close to Wolf’s ear that his lips brushed against skin when he muttered, “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, Wolfie. Now sit an’ be a good boy.”

A shiver racked through Wolf’s body in response, a deep, guttural groan coming from deep in his chest. He remained dutifully still as Hoxton lowered to a crouch between his knees, biting playfully at the inside of one thigh before shifting to mouth at the bulge in Wolf’s underwear.

“Fuck, Hox-“ Wolf uttered breathlessly, falling back onto his elbows but continuing to stare down his body at the sight through half lidded eyes, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. Hoxton maintained their eye contact as he hooked his fingers over the waistband and lowered Wolf’s underwear, exposing his quickly hardening cock to the cool air for a moment before closing his lips around the head and giving a hard suck. Wolf squirmed and moaned, eyes finally closing as he tilted his head back, fingernails scraping against the desktop.

“Oi,” Hoxton groused as he leaned back a little, “eyes down here Wolf. Don’t wanna miss the show do you?”

Wolf growled but did as he was told, lowering his chin and reopening his eyes in a dutiful display of self control. Hoxton liked that about Wolf – he was so into Hoxton ordering him about he’d do whatever he was told, even when he was in one of his shit moods. Hoxton could stop right now, zip him back up and walk off and Wolf would sit there and take it. The absolute unwavering trust Wolf had in Hoxton was easy to feel drunk on sometimes, so heady and powerful a feeling it was to know that another man had such unshakeable faith in him.

But that thought train was dangerously close to leading him to soft and fuzzy feelings, so Hoxton tucked it away for later and lowered his face back to Wolf’s cock, running his tongue up the length of the shaft before taking it halfway into his mouth, tongue rolling and flicking over the hot flesh. He kept his hands on Wolf’s thighs to stop him from bucking up, but it probably wasn’t necessary considering how much Wolf seemed to be shivering from the effort of restraining himself.

Hoxton released Wolf’s cock with a wet pop, letting Wolf breathe for a minute as he rummaged in his trouser pocket for the small tube he’d snatched from their room upstairs. Wolf let out a breathless chuckle, abdomen shaking in a way that drew Hoxton’s eyes to the clenching and unclenching muscles there.

“You’re well prepared.”

“Well I didn’t fancy lookin’ around in here for somethin’,” Hoxton grinned as he squeezed some lube out of the tube, rubbing the slick substance between his fingers to try to warm it a little. “Unless you wanted motor oil or something up your arse, and I’d rather not accidentally find out what chemicals you have that can melt a cock off.” Wolf let out a loud laugh at that and Hoxton felt like if he smiled any harder his face would rip. He probably looked like a fucking idiot, crouched between someone’s legs and telling jokes between sucking him off, but when he saw Wolf trying in vain to stop his giggling he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit.

Hoxton let Wolf’s laugh die down to just occasional titters before bringing a finger up to circle Wolf’s hole, timing inserting his finger with bringing his mouth back to Wolf’s cock for a second round. He kept the movements of his mouth more light as he focused more on stretching the muscle beneath his hand, eyes back on Wolf’s face to look out for any signs of discomfort.

When Hoxton inserted another finger Wolf exhaled slowly and spread his thighs wider, shuffling slightly to try to make himself as accessible as possible. It was a thoughtful gesture, really, but from what Hoxton knew of him Wolf seemed to be full of those at the most unexpected moments. Hoxton prodded and curled his fingers experimentally, trying to find that sweet spot and backed up so he wouldn’t inadvertently be choked by Wolf’s dick when Wolf suddenly bucked, letting out a strangled sound. Ah, there it was.

“Alright?” Hoxton asked with a smirk as he brushed the area again with his fingertips, watching in satisfaction as Wolf nodded frantically. He added a third finger to continue stretching, occasionally rubbing against Wolf’s prostate to distract from any ache, and just to see Wolf squirm and groan.

Hoxton could tell Wolf was ready when one particularly aggressive push against the swede’s prostate caused him to growl and glare, grumbling, “jag vill ha dig” between strained pants.

“You know I can’t understand that shit,” Hoxton replied smugly, climbing back to his feet and lean over Wolf’s body and bracing himself on the desk to hold himself up, “tell me in English.”

Wolf’s glare sharpened and he grabbed Hoxton’s tie, roughly pulling him into a harsh kiss before spitting against his lips, “hurry up and fuck me.” Hoxton would be a goddamn liar if he said pushing Wolf until he got demanding and aggressive wasn’t rewarding, and he felt his own already straining cock twitch at the command.

Hoxton made short work of shedding his trousers and underwear before lubing himself up and beginning to press the head of his cock to Wolf’s entrance, hands flat against the desk on either side of Wolf’s body to hold himself up as he pushed in. Wolf’s hands sought out contact, one of them clamping tightly at the back of Hoxton’s neck – a position he must find comforting, considering how common it was for Wolf to place his hand there, though fucked if Hoxton knew why. Wolf’s other hand stroked up the side of Hoxton’s body before smoothing across his chest to pluck at one of his shirt buttons.

“Why are you- ah, still we-wearing clothes?” Wolf panted, somehow managing to sound offended between short moans.

“Because I’m fuckin’… classy aren’t I,” Hoxton replied nonsensically, all of his concentration focused on staying still until Wolf has adjusted to the sensation of Hoxton’s cock inside him. He exhaled hard before adding, “just because I’m slammin’ you into a… a table doesn’t mean I can’t look me best.”

“Shut up,” Wolf snapped, though there was a smile on his face as his hand tightened in the fabric of Hoxton’s shirt and used it to pull him forward into another kiss. “You can move, I’m not made of fucking glass.”

“Maybe I wanna treat you right,” Hoxton grinned against Wolf’s lips, starting to shift his hips and begin moving. It was intended as a barb but there was too much fondness in his voice, too much unintended softness. “Give you a nice slow fuck, make you really want it.” Despite it being mostly a joke Wolf shuddered at the suggestion, biting and sucking at Hoxton’s lower lip before licking into his mouth, tongues brushing together wetly.

Hoxton began to set a steady pace, withdrawing his hips before slamming back in to the tight heat of Wolf’s ass, unable to stop himself moaning at the sensation. Wolf was bracing himself against the desk to be able to move into each thrust, hot breath panting erratically against Hoxton’s chin and it was so much, too much.

When he blinked his eyes open (when had he closed those?) he found Wolf staring intently at him, as if Hoxton’s face had the secret to the goddamn universe written across it.

“Du är snygg,” Wolf whispered with a heavy breath, and despite whatever meaning being lost on him Hoxton felt his ears redden at the tenderness of it. How strange it was that he could fuck and suck dick shamelessly, but such genuine emotion left him feeling raw and exposed. He felt Wolf’s thumb brush back and forth against the side of his neck, pressing gently against his pulse between strokes. “Hoxton…”

Hoxton shook himself, swallowing the lump in his throat. He took hold of one of Wolf’s thighs with his hand and raised it to be pressed against his chest, knee resting by his shoulder, before using the new position to thrust deeper. He tried to angle himself correctly to hit Wolf’s prostate and was rewarded when a thrust made Wolf throw his head back, a loud groan echoing from deep in his ribcage.

Seeing Wolf like this – bent in half beneath him, spine bowing against the hard table top, chest heaving and hands clawing at Hoxton’s body for any point of contact to dig his fingers into – fuck, Hoxton could never get enough of this, of knowing that he was the one to reduce this man to pieces. Wolf’s ass clenched around his cock with each thrust, squeezing him so tight and hot that he knew he was being ripped to pieces too, could feel it every time a keening moan was dragged kicking and screaming from deep in his throat.

“Fuck, Wolf-“ Hoxton’s voice was a guttural groan, raspy and breathless as he sped up the sharp thrust of his hips, “Look so fucking good taking my cock. Such a fuckin’ good boy-“ Wolf’s breath stuttered at that, fingernails scraping down Hoxton’s arms either side of him as he let out a harsh cry.

“Hox,” Wolf panted, sounding like his throat had been scraped raw, “Sluta inte. Helvete, Hox-“

Hoxton shut him up with a kiss, gasping into Wolf’s mouth when he felt the swede’s body bend even more beneath his chest to accommodate their position. Fuck, he was flexible. He had to adjust a little to be able to hit Wolf’s prostate again but after that he was thrusting down onto Wolf on the table, fucking into him hard as they both panted between wet, open-mouthed kisses.

One of Wolf’s hands snaked down between their bodies to tug at his own forgotten cock, and Hoxton let him get a few strokes in before he was taking hold of each of Wolf’s hands with his own and slamming them down onto the table, pinning them in place either side of the Swedish man’s head. “None of that,” he muttered as he lowered his head to bite at Wolf’s neck, continuing to murmur between bites and groans, “I want you… to cum just from me fuckin’ you. You can… do that for me. Can’t you, Wolfie?”

Wolf let out a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a sob, hips trying to buck into Hoxton’s thrusts even though he was effectively pinned down. Hoxton sucked hard at the pulse point at Wolf’s throat, enjoying the feel of blood pumping fast beneath his tongue, before sinking his teeth into the flesh there and pounding at Wolf’s ass with everything he had. Wolf was making non-stop sound, breath frantic between raspy cries and garbled Swedish.

When Wolf clenched hard around Hoxton’s cock with a strangled wail he felt the breath punched out of him, crying out as he buried himself deep and came inside the other man. He continued moving as he did, short sharp thrusts as he rode out his orgasm. When he finally finished he was taking great gulps of air like he’d run a marathon, staring down at Wolf’s chest rising and falling erratically beneath his own. Wolf had cum hard enough that there were strands of it up his chest and a little flecked on the scruff on his chin, and Hoxton couldn’t hold back a quiet, surprised laugh.

Wolf was soft and pliable under Hoxton’s hands, lying tired and heavy on the desk as Hoxton brushed his thumb across the short hairs on Wolf’s chin to catch the droplets, sucking his thumb into his own mouth after. Wolf grinned and Hoxton gave him a light smack on the side of the head.

Hoxton cleared his throat before he began ranting. “I bet you haven’t eaten all day today have you, you soft twat?” he groused, smacking Wolf again when he just laughed quietly in response. “This team would fuckin’ fall apart without me. Get dressed so we can go get something to fuckin’ eat.”

“I’ll get my suit dirty,” Wolf pouted but moved anyway, groaning as he stood and stretched his back. Hoxton watched Wolf’s back muscles shift with an appreciative eye. “And I need a shower…”

Hoxton sighed, acting as if caring for Wolf was in any way being put-upon. “Mard arse. You go get a shower and I’ll get you some clothes and order food, that alright, Wolfie?”

“Take out?” Wolf looked up from where he was re-buttoning up his shirt. “Can we get Chinese?”

“Sure,” Hoxton idly passed Wolf his trousers and watched as he pulled them back up. He still looked rumpled and was sporting a few bruises on his neck, but he was at least decent enough now to walk through the safe house to the nearest bathroom. “We’re not eating it in the bedroom though. Not having you spilling noodles all over the fuckin’ bed again.”

“Aw! But…”

“Shut up,” Hoxton smoothed a hand over the top of Wolf’s head, leaning in to give him a light kiss. He knew that Wolf wanted to avoid other people when he was in a mood, but he wasn’t going to humour it this time. “You can socialise a bit after locking yourself up all day, you fuckin’ baby.” Wolf hummed and nodded, pulling Hoxton in to more and more kisses before Hoxton pushed him away and towards the door. “Go on, fuck off. Or I’m not ordering you anything.”

“Ok, ok!”

\---

“Where did Hoxton go?” Dallas asked the three occupants of the kitchen as he, Chains and Sokol ascended the stairs to join them. “We haven’t even moved the bags out of the van yet.” Sydney and Jacket were seated at the table holding a tablet between them, Sydney’s animated ranting about some design she’d come up with stopping abruptly when Dallas spoke. Clover was hovering near the counter with a cup of tea, arms folded and expression somewhere between pensive and smug.

“Probably went to hide so he would not have to move bags,” Sokol scoffed, moving around the table to try to see what Sydney and Jacket were doing. Sydney stuck a foot out to trip him and he cursed her out animatedly in Russian, Jacket rubbing his face with his hand to try to hide a little smirk.

“He went to find Wolf,” Sydney piped up when she’d finished cackling at Sokol. Dallas rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, sighing heavily. Hoxton had been distracted all day, he might’ve known it would be something to do with Wolf.

“I could go get him?” Chains suggested, eyes trained on Dallas’ expression. He’d barely spoken before Clover barked out such an abrupt laugh it was almost like it had been punched out of her. Every head in the kitchen turned to stare at Clover and she cleared her throat, bringing her mug tea back to her lips.

“Yeah, no… Don’t do that,” she said after a generous gulp of tea, “They’re either fighting or playing tongue hockey downstairs-“ Dallas cringed instinctively, “and I don’t think you want to see either.”

“Please be advised, the following presentation is not intended for minors,” Jacket’s tape recorder added and Sydney guffawed, demanding another high five.

**Author's Note:**

> Jag vill ha dig = I want you  
> Du är snygg = You are pretty / beautiful  
> Sluta inte = Don't stop
> 
> You can't convince me Jacket and Sydney aren't bros, I do not hear it


End file.
